I Am NOT Irrelevant

My third revelation of the New Year was the simplest, but it has sparked an amazing amount of momentum within my life.  It is simply this:  I am not irrelevant.  It can often feel just a bit confining to be alone. That perspective is skewed at best, but anyone who has eaten dinner at a restaurant alone, left the sanctuary of their church alone, arrived home to a house that is empty, or spent Valentines’ Day avoiding all retail & media outlets knows what I mean… in a world built for “two,” being “one” makes you feel more like “half.”

One of the greatest shocks I received after becoming a single mother was that I was suddenly an enemy of the movement I had long championed:  the “family values” group.  Suddenly, I represented everything they were afraid of, everything they hated.  I was the woman who had failed at marriage … not once, but twice.  I was the single mother whose kids were doomed for felonious misadventure… I was THAT girl…

I learned just how strong that stigma was on a rainy Sunday morning.  A married gentleman saw me with my two children – one of whom was not yet walking – and he offered to go get my car and pull it up under the portico so that I wouldn’t have to take the children out in the rain.  I gratefully accepted.  It wasn’t until he pulled up in my car and handed me back the keys that I caught a glimpse of his wife’s face.  She was … unhappy, to say the least.  I’m afraid that the poor man probably got a tongue-lashing on the way home, and I probably got labeled as the woman who was trying to steal her husband away.  After that incident, I declined all offers of help; it was just simpler that way.   Clearly, none of the married couples were going to be asking me out to eat with them anymore either, so I had to set off on a new quest:  redefine where I fit as a unicycle in this world that prefers bicycles built for two.

That answer did not come easily.  Truthfully, no one else knew where I was supposed to go either.  In my church, I tended (and still tend) to get shuffled between the youth group (clearly, at almost 36, I’m a little too old for that) and the elderly widows (love those ladies, but they have great-grandchildren that are older than my kids).  Since I didn’t really fit, I chose option C – fade into the background.  Worked pretty well, for the most part, but I didn’t feel connected with my church.  Didn’t feel connected anywhere.  There was a very real part of me that wanted to seek out a new relationship just so that I felt like I belonged in a church, at a grocery store, or just generally on the planet.  That would be a really bad reason to pursue a relationship, so I needed another direction.

On that New Year’s Eve-Day dawning, God had already told me that my dream wasn’t dead.  He had already told me that my home was not broken.  The final revelation was where I “fit.”  In those early hours, I saw that while I was alone, He was personally molding me, making me into who He wanted me to become.  And just as He was shaping me, He was shaping my place in the world.  I was right about one thing – I didn’t fit…yet.  Both my place and my character were still in formation, under His guidance.

As my eyes were opened, I began to see was just how many people were rocking along in the same boat that I inhabited.  There were a LOT of us.  We were just invisible.  I began to reach out to others, sharing my story, listening to theirs.  What I learned is that many wounded people leave the very place they need to be – the church – because they feel isolated and out of place.

The statistics on marriage and divorce are rather staggering.  When you add in widowhood and those who never marry, there is a very large percentage of the population that isn’t in a traditional family.  It is completely unreasonable that those people – such a huge number – should all feel inconsequential to the body of Christ.  This is particularly true when you look at one glaring fact:  the author of the vast majority of the New Testament was a single man.  If Paul could be that effective on his own, well, why not me too?

So my quest in this year is not to find “the one.”  I’m not looking for anybody to “complete me.”  Jesus did that.  I’m looking for every opportunity that I can to spread the gospel, to magnify & glorify the name of Christ, to reach the unreachable & touch the untouchable.  I’m putting “hands & feet” on my faith.  I am not irrelevant to the body of Christ.  In fact, I’m pretty relevant all around, and I’m moving forward.  Anybody want to come along?

Doing Time on the C-List

(This starts a little slowly, but I promise it gets to the point.) Last winter, I was in the midst of a really nasty divorce, so I packed my bags and moved myself and my kids in with my parents to recuperate. The move wasn't THAT big a deal, since it was just up the driveway, but it gave me some peace of mind. Over the course of a month or so, however, quarters started getting a little tight at mom and dad's, so I knew the time had come to go back to IT – my house. But the thought of going back into the same house looking the same way it had before, well that was more than I could bear. Suddenly, the proverbial light bulb went off: I could sell the furniture. But how? Craigslist, of course. I had heard a lot about it. No time like the present to give it a try.

(Stay with me. I promise we are getting there.) So, I wrote up my ad, complete with the heading “Divorce Sale Extravaganza”, and started posting everything that wasn't nailed down. Over three weekends, I sold the entire contents of my 4 bedroom house AND refurnished it. All on Craigslist! But that isn't why I'm writing. The truth is that I learned a whole lot about what I HADN'T been doing to reach the lost from my time on the C-list. And THAT'S why I'm writing here.

First Things First: Being open wins people over.

Simply put, my divorce was an excrutiatingly public experience that brought me to depths of humiliation I had never previously fathomed. By the time I was blithely listing my furniture for sale, I figured I had nothing to lose by telling the three people in the entire county who hadn't heard about the whole thing. So, I put it right out there. “If you are wondering why I am offering this fabulous deal, it's because I'm in the middle of a divorce. My loss can literally be your gain.” What happened in return? People were really open with me. Suddenly, their guard was down. If this total stranger was throwing her life out there, what could they possibly have to lose? Mark and Lisa arrived to pick up my sofa and began to tell me that they were hoping to get married that weekend. Lisa had a two year old daughter, and Mark was stepping in to be a “dad.” Before they left, Lisa pulled me to the side and said, “I can tell you are one of those, oh you know, religious people. Can you pray for me? I want to build the right kind of home for my baby, but I don't know how.”

Second Helpings: Listen, and listen actively.

People are aching for an opportunity to open up. Tanya called me about a couple of bedroom sets. Mine were priced right. She had recently separated from her husband and was starting over from scratch. Could I hold them until the weekend? She and her dad arrived on Saturday morning, and while her Dad and mine took the beds apart and loaded the truck, she just looked like she had something to say, so I asked a few questions. And Tanya began to cry, revealing a story of being abandoned and betrayed. I shared a little of my story, and she looked at me stunned, “Your story is probably worse than mine. And you are standing here smiling at me, comforting ME. I ought to be comforting you. What's the secret? How can you SMILE?” It felt so much like a made-for-tv moment that I almost looked for cameras. Instead, I shared the gospel. Tanya is a hungry soul, and I'm determined to show her where real strength comes from – Christ.

Three Strikes and You're Out: My One Negative Experience.

One afternoon a young apostolic couple showed up to buy my monstrous dining room set. I was pretty excited when I saw them – people of like faith! I greeted them enthusiastically, asking where they were from and making a few “churchy” comments that we apostolics like to exchange. They shut me down pretty quickly. My elbows were showing (egads!), and since I was in the middle of a D-vorce, we were clearly not of like faith. Wasn't much to say but, “ok”. They took the table, but only after trying to get me to discount it into regions unheard of and convincing me that they were completely incapable of humor on any level. (Ever heard the phrase, “His face would crack if he smiled”? It would fit these two.) Lesson learned – Be aware of how you present yourself. If I ran into this couple, I definitely wouldn't want what they had. It looked more like a disease than the Holy Ghost.

Go Fourth: Washing Machines and Sharing the Good News.

Corinne called me at 10:18 pm on a Tuesday night. She started by apologizing profusely for calling so late, but she didn't want to chance missing out on the washer and dryer I had listed. See, her son was in desperate need and this looked like a good set they could afford. I said that the call wasn't any trouble and asked if she had any questions about the set. She didn't, but it turned out she needed to talk. She told me about the bad luck that seemed to follow her son around, about how he was starting over with his kids, and how she felt so inadequate to help him. Well, I saw an opening I couldn't resist. I shared my story, and how God was helping ME. With Him, it did get better and joy came again. Corinne started crying. Her grandma had that kind of faith, but she went to the crazy church where people swung from chandeliers and such. Most of the family thought Granny was a little crazy, but they knew to call her for prayer. I told Corinne that while no one has swung from our chandelier lately, I attend one of those “crazy” churches, and I'd be more than happy to pray for her family.

She showed up a few days later to pick up the washer and dryer, and with a bunch of questions about what her Granny used to tell her. I've got answers, and she asked for my number. I'm hoping that will be a Home Bible Study in the making.

Fifth Wheels – What's the point?

I've barely scratched the surface of my Craigslist encounters, but do you see the trend? It's simple – once I started reaching out, I found hungry people searching for answers. As apostolics, we have become so wound up in our culture that we have forgotten the words of the Great Commission.

It is, “Go ye, therefore . . .”, not “If you build it, they will come.”

We aren't going. We are passing out flyers. We aren't listening. We are talking about our “great services” where the “power of God moves.” Those words are fine, but someone who is lost has no idea what that means. If we are going to reach this world, we must be bold. We must be open. We must allow ourselves to be vulnerable. And we must go to where they are. Even if that is Craigslist . . . now, I must return to the storage shed. There's some more stuff out there that I think I can sell.   

A Tale of Two Trees

I have found through my life that God speaks to me through images. Sometimes they are profound, other times simple. And sometimes they just help me clarify the way that I am feeling at a given moment. This morning was one of those.

I was driving from the farm (where my kids are while I'm working - that's a story for another time) to my office this morning, and I saw the strangest and most beautiful tree. It was fascinating! It had two different types of leaves, two different textures of branches! I was so amazed that I slowed down to take a better look.

And that's when I realized that I was actually looking at two trees, grown so closely together that they had intertwined to form a single 'tree'. From a distance, you saw a beautiful, fascinating sculpture. Up close, you saw the intricacy of nature at work. Two separate trunks, about 3 feet apart, that had grown into a massive and beautifully combined structure. An evergreen and a deciduous tree, in perfect harmony. And as I looked at it, I marvelled at God's creation once again, and I realized something very important about myself.

I married very young, and in the haste of what was once called puppy love. By the one-week anniversary of the union, I regretted the choice. But I viewed (and still view) the vow as sacred, and I did my best to make the marriage work. It was never happy, and I never found the comfort in the relationship that I heard other people describe; but, there was contentment in obedience to God's word. I would never have ended the marriage of my own accord - simply because it went against my principles - but when the dust settled from my rather humiliating abandonment, I found myself keeping company with an emotion that would be considered odd for an abandoned woman: relief. Home became a refuge - a place of peace, rather than strife. Yes, I was relieved and thankful. Growing alone - an independent tree - was much better than being joined to a kudzu vine, so determined to dominate that it would choke the life out of its host without thought or compunction.

But back to the trees . . .

What I realized in that moment was that - should God ever will that singleness is not the state He wishes me to occupy - I want to be like those trees. An independent soul, with my own identity, who finds a way to perfectly meld, mesh and intertwine the aspects of my life with that of another. Not to lose who I am - but to fully and completely complement someone else in such a way that we together are more than we were apart. From a distance, a wondrous and lovely entity. Up close, two distinct identities formed together by the hands of a Creator who is never far away. Cooperative. Cohesive. Beautiful. Whole.

Sound like a fairy tale? Maybe. But wasn't it God who formed man from dust and woman from a rib? Seems like He specializes in fairy tales. And until then? I stand thankful that He takes care of His own.

Of Human Bondage . . . and Tahitian Pork Roast

We are all bound by our expectations. We anticipate that things will go a certain way, and when they don't - we become frustrated and angry. We expect God to answer our prayers OUR way, and when He doesn't . . .

I purchase food through a food co-op - you pay for a box, and they fill it up. In that box are many things - things that must be cooked. And things that offer occasions for frustration.

So - I'm sure you're wondering where this is going - in the box of food, there was a pork roast. Very nice cut. Just perfect for one can of mushroom soup, some potatoes and some carrots. Traditional meat and potatoes. I was SO ready to get it going and then . . .

I checked the cupboards. No soup. No regular potatoes. Just a can of pineapple chunks in juice and a sweet potato. It was catastrophe. It was horror. It was unimaginable. OH THE HUMANITY . . . Roast can't be cooked any other way, can it?

Hardly realizing what I was doing, I opened the pineapples and dumped them in. Well, I was committed, might as well finish it . . . I peeled the potato, chopped it and put it in there too. And then the frenzy began. What other strange things could I put in with that roast? Two oranges, an onion, the left-overs of a bottle of barbeque sauce, honey, lemon pepper, spices, salt, pepper . . .

Well, I had done it - but how would it taste? I decided that, if I liked it, I'd name it Tahitian Pork Roast, and if I didn't, I'd tell myself that the pineapples just FELL in there. Eight hours later, my kids and I ate the best pork roast that has ever been prepared within the walls of my kitchen. Tahitian Pork Roast. Which led me to the question . . .

What do we miss when we are bound up in our expectations? When we as so caught up in our expectations of what SHOULD BE, do we miss what COULD BE if only we would let go of the reins - just a little?

I suppose I could have re-wrapped that pork roast and saved it for another day. I'm sure it would have been a good pork roast in the traditional sense. But I'm glad I didn't wait. I'm glad I took the plunge.

We aren't always promised and safe and smooth voyage. And we are not always promised that we will have the ending we expect. Sometimes, you just have to take the plunge.

Tahitian Pork Roast, anyone?

Ending One Dream . . . and Beginning Another

I can distinctly remember the day 3 years and 11 months ago that I signed the papers purchasing my home. It was sunny, and I knew there was a busy afternoon of moving ahead of us. I had just completed my first year of full-time teaching. My daughter was 2. And I was idly dreaming - with every box packed, with every wall painted - of the life we would build within those walls.

Fast forward - 3 years and 11 months later . . .

Those dreams are gone. They have been mourned. But it is time to move on. To new dreams . . .

Today, I signed the papers for my house again. The weather is just as sunny, but there is no busy moving ahead (though I do need to clean up the toys in the living room and call the plumber to work on the back bathroom). I now work as a paralegal part-time and a teacher part-time. My teaching contract has renewed! My daughter is 6, and my son is 13 months. And I'm idly dreaming again, but much differently this time . . .

I know that I'm expected to feel sadness - or at the least, melancholy - about this event. I know that because each time I share my news, people tell me how sorry they are - and I'm taken aback a moment before I respond to their sympathy. I know why they are acknowledging the sadness in the moment, but I'm not feeling sadness. Or bitterness or anger, or melancholy.

Instead, I'm relieved. I'm hopeful. I'm happy. When the world fell apart, I didn't believe that there was any way my children and I would still have a home when the dust settled - but look what God has done! It's a miracle! When the world fell apart, God was STILL THERE! And I just cannot honestly say that it leaves me with anything but . . . wonder, joy and hope. It's the ultimate miracle - the one that Christ performs in every life - when He takes the broken things and makes them better than they were before they were broken! And I rejoice at what He has done!

If He has ordered my steps through the minefield of the past few years, what more do I have to fear? He will order my steps through everything else as well. And I can be nothing but thankful for the new dreams - and the plans that He has for me.

So my daydreaming this time is much more general, because I have no idea what God has planned. I only know that He is good and will walk with me through every plan He has made. Whatever they might be . . .